


An Empire of Autumn

by sunshineflying



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Autumn, Baking, Bonfires, Donuts, M/M, Strangers to Lovers, apple orchard
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-03
Updated: 2018-11-03
Packaged: 2019-08-16 21:37:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16503149
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunshineflying/pseuds/sunshineflying
Summary: After a rough day at work, Hux decides to take a drive to clear his head. He ends up at Dameron Orchard and indulges in some autumnal festivities. He catches the eye of the man in plaid building the massive bonfire outside the barn and before he knows it, Hux is wrapped up in more than he could have ever anticipated.





	An Empire of Autumn

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Wilson66](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wilson66/gifts).



> This fic is for Wilson, someone that I have come to know and recognize around the fandom. She has such a big heart, and she is a large reason why I continue to write and interact even when things get tough. Wilson, thank you so much for reading and commenting on all of my things, and for just being a really wonderful, warm, kind human. You are so wonderful, and I hope you enjoy this fic!
> 
> Thanks to Christa and Winnie for the title idea!

The air was cool and crisp, the sun setting behind the trees as the leaves crunched beneath the immaculate Italian leather of Hux’s shoes. He wasn’t sure what possessed him to deign to visit an orchard. Sure, it was autumn and the trees were beautiful, and he quite liked most apples he’d tried, but he didn’t _do_ outdoors. 

He enjoyed the pristine, clean, climate-controlled indoors of both his workplace and his home. 

But the weather that day was particularly mild, and he’d worn his heathered-gray wool pea coat, and it would be a shame to let the day go to waste, really.

So, Hux decided to see what it was all about.

Though most would feel silly, walking alone into a place so clearly meant for couples and families and groups, Hux didn’t. He enjoyed his solitude, and embraced the silence that seemed to follow him everywhere. It was a welcome reprieve from a childhood filled with shouting — some aimed at him, and some heard from down the hallway or behind a closed door. His parents had never gotten along much.

As he waited in line to enter through the front gates, he kept his hands in his pockets and closed his eyes. He breathed in the cool air — it had a taste and scent all its own, the promise of snow on the horizon, but the guarantee that he could enjoy the beauty of the season just a bit before winter reared its ugly head.

After getting past the front gate, he looked around. There was a rugged looking man with scraggly dark curls atop his head squashed by a beanie shoving firewood into a massive pile. His orange and black flannel was well-worn; he looked like he worked on the orchard and was preparing for a bonfire.

Hux had always wanted to go to a bonfire.

Off in the distance were families, couples, all types of people, really. They wandered in and out of the trees with smiles on their faces, like this was their favorite time of year. Maybe it was. Summer was overrated, anyway. Fathers lifted children to pluck apples from the tops of the trees… mothers held the hands of toddlers who explored the muddy trails with wide, impressionable eyes. Couples held hands and paused to take photos — for as much as Hux hated social media culture, he had to admit that the scenery was _perfect_ for photos.

There was a house and farm in the distance, behind a white picket fence that politely said that area of the orchard was off limits. It must belong to the owners. 

To Hux’s left was a plain red barn — it looked like all the other farms that dotted the fields as he’d driven away from the city. Above the front door hung a sign with the name of the orchard, and people milled in and out of the building in their plaid and their hats and their mittens. Some carried bags of apples, others carried the fares being sold inside. Even more walked in and out with steaming cups of hot beverages — apple cider, Hux would guess, though cocoa and coffee were also possibilities.

His curiosity piqued, Hux walked into the barn. It was a few degrees warmer thanks to the bodies milling around. Off to one side there was a stand where food and beverages were being sold — apple brats, apple cider donuts, and caramel apples. Sure enough, all manner of hot beverages Hux had anticipated were also being sold.

Feeling oddly festive, Hux approached this table first. Though he was an avid coffee drinker, he opted for the apple cider. It seemed appropriate, given the season and the fact that it was touted to have been made using the apples on their orchard. He also bought a donut, tempted by the cinnamon and sugar sprinkling the outside of it.

He walked slowly around the shop as he consumed his cider and donut, eyeing up everything else that was for sale. It was all fall-themed, for the most part: bottled ciders, hard ciders, a variety of soy candles, knitted wool mittens and scarves and hats… everything one could imagine in the spirit of the autumnal season was on the shelves.

Even more people than he’d expected were inside the barn, many of them sitting on the second-level loft where another stand was situated selling the same foods and beverages. Families sat together, eating and drinking and making crafts the orchard owners had set out.

Hux had to give it to them: they may not be a big corporation but this family who owned the orchard knew what they had to do to successfully bring in people and make money.

Everything smelled warm, like cinnamon and spices. It settled Hux, though he hadn’t consciously realized he was tense or stressed to begin with. Maybe it’s why he’d been overrun with the desire to escape the city for an evening. He’d left work early, climbed into his Lexus, and he’d just _driven_. 

It didn’t take long for the crowds and the people to overwhelm Hux, and soon he found himself back outside.

The air felt different — a little cooler, though everything would feel that way after leaving a bustling building. It smelled different, too. He could see a trail of smoke leading up to the sky, and the man in the orange plaid caught his eye once again. There were small flames beginning to rise from beneath the pile of firewood he’d piled in a massive ring of rocks.

Around the bonfire were log benches and hay bales — plenty of seating for the crowd once the fire was going in earnest. Hux wondered how many of these families actually stuck around for the bonfire. He imagined not many, given it was likely very close to bedtime for most of the kids. Or so he’d guess, anyway, given he had zero parenting expertise.

The woody, burnt smell of the fire warmed Hux as he inhaled, drawing him closer to the bonfire and the man in the plaid.

“Fire should be going soon!”

The man shouted to Hux without looking up, causing Hux too look around, wondering if he was talking to someone else. But Hux appeared to be the only one near the fire — it stood to reason then that the man had been shouting to him.

“I was just going to sit down.”

Hux stepped closer still, donut in one hand and cup of cider in the other. Steam rose through the black lid on his to-go cup, the swirls of steam matching the tendrils of smoke rising into the air.

“Oh,” said the man. He stood up and turned to look at Hux.

The man’s curls seemed to be bursting out from underneath his beanie, and his face sported several days’ worth of five o’clock shadows. And his eyes — his eyes held more life in them than Hux had probably experienced since birth. All at once this man was happy, frustrated, excited, and so many more things Hux couldn’t identify. Paired with the coy smile on the man’s red lips, Hux knew he’d just stepped into the firepit, so to speak. 

This man was painstakingly handsome, and Hux had lost all defenses the moment their eyes met.

“Have a seat, then. I shouldn’t be much longer.”

The man’s voice was smooth, a little suave. He seemed surprised that someone would want to have a seat before the fire was really big enough to warm anyone, before it was doing its job.

“I’m Poe, by the way.”

“Hux.”

“Good to meet you, Hux. That your first name?”

Poe pulled a box of matches out of his pocket and lit one with ease. He haphazardly tossed it into the pile of firewood and then turned to Hux.

“Last name. I hate my first name.”

“Ah,” said Poe. “Well, Hux, welcome to Dameron Orchard.”

Hux nodded. “Thank you.”

“You ever been here before?” 

Shaking his head, Hux said, “No. I moved here for work last year, and I haven’t left the city much.”

“Yeah, I was wondering where that accent came from.” 

Poe appraised the fire for a moment, and then nodded, pleased with the way the flames were growing. Satisfied with his work, Poe wandered over towards Hux to sit down on a hay bale next to him. This way, he was on hand in case the fire got out of control.

“I’m from London,” Hux explained.

“I picked up on that.”

Hux looked over at this man, one eyebrow raised. He was witty and sarcastic, and he kept Hux on his toes. Though he didn’t look like most of Hux’s past significant others, he had the same sort of personality. He seemed wilder, though. More unpredictable and out of hand. Hux hadn’t expected something like that to appeal to him as much as it did.

“How did you find us?” Poe asked.

Shrugging, Hux sipped his cider and wondered how to answer that. Though the rational side of his brain told him he could be as honest as he wanted because he’d never see this man again, another part of Hux wondered if maybe he should play it down — he’d be very tempted to give this man his number before leaving. Though, upon further consideration, Hux wasn’t entirely sure Poe owned a cell phone at all.

Honesty it was, then.

“I just… drove.”

“Ah,” Poe nodded. He looked over at Hux, which prompted Hux to busy himself with another sip of cider. “Well, I’m glad you found us. D’you like the farm?”

“This is yours?”

“My dad’s, but yeah… it’ll be mine one day.”

Hux looked around. The place was massive, and it was more of an empire than Hux would probably ever own for himself. He’d just work as one of the many cogs in a massive, global machine, and that would be that. What a boring way to live.

“I like it a lot,” Hux confessed easily. He felt like he could be honest with this man — and honesty wasn’t something Hux practiced often. “I’d never been to an orchard before.”

“Well, I’m biased, but I’d say you picked a pretty good one to start with.”

Hux laughed in spite of himself. He didn’t often show emotions — the result of too many years living under his father’s influence — but out here away from the confines of the city, Hux felt like he could let loose. 

Rugged Poe and his flannel and beanie and calloused hands and scuffed boots made Hux want to let loose.

“I’d have to agree with you,” Hux said. “Though, this man in charge of the bonfire is quite easy to distract…”

He looked over at Poe with amusement, pleased to see the man could take a joke well. Poe’s eyes crinkled at the corners, and he shook his head as he laughed. “You’re something else, Hux.”

“I’m not wrong. It took me what, two sentences? Three? And next thing I know you’re sitting here next to me, abandoning all your job duties.”

“I mean, when you own your own business —”

“But you said it wasn’t yours yet.”

Hux smirked at Poe, knowing he’d won this round. Poe chuckled and shook his head, the only acknowledgement he gave that he’d been bested. 

“How’d you like that donut?”

Caught off guard by the abrupt change in topic, Hux nearly choked on the bite he’d just taken. Poe laughed and took the opportunity to pat Hux on the back to help him regain his composure. “It’s fine, I guess,” Hux said, trying very hard to keep his voice curt and neutral.

“My mom and I were testing out some recipes for next year… wanna try one?”

It was a surprising question, and one Hux would assume had never been asked of anyone else on the orchard before. Stupidly, he just nodded, unsure of where or when they’d try the recipes.

“C’mon,” Poe coaxed eagerly. 

He stood from the hay bale and waited only a split second for Hux to get it together before beginning to walk across the massive open center of the orchard and up towards the farm that was neatly closed off with the white picket fence.

As they approached the home, Hux took a little more time to appreciate it. White siding matched the fence out front, and the front door was red just like they always were in old generic paintings of farmscapes. Behind the home were hills upon hills of trees, the leaves all faded orange and yellow and red. It was a beautiful view; Hux couldn’t imagine waking up to a view like that day after day. It was breathtaking.

The yard was strewn with various items one would expect to see on a farm: an old red wagon, a scarecrow, some windchimes on the front porch, a tractor tire turned flower bed. It was quaint and cozy. Hux liked things to be neat and orderly, but there was a certain comfort about the Damerons’ lawn.

Inside the house didn’t hold a torch to the yard or the orchard.

Though the house itself was a fairly old rambler — circa 1970’s or 1980’s, Hux would guess — it had been renovated quite recently. The walls were freshly painted and the furniture was new, and as Hux toed off his shoes and followed Poe into the kitchen, he also noticed the brand new countertops and cabinets and stainless steel appliances.

“It looks like HGTV threw up in here.”

Poe snorted. “Thanks. I’ll tell my mom you said that.”

“I just mean —”

Laughing, Poe turned and propped himself up on the countertop to look at Hux. “She literally used screenshots from episodes of an HGTV show. Like, she watched it on her laptop just so she could take screenshots and take them to the store and tell the guys like what color paint or countertops or whatever it was she wanted.” Poe rifled around with one of the many Tupperware containers on the counter and pulled the lid off a teal one. “And when Target came out with a line of furniture from her favorite designers? She really lost it.”

Poe held out a dried apple slice to Hux and said, “Mom’s thinking about selling bags of these in the barn. What do you think? We’re still trying to get the balance of tangy and cinnamon right but this is the closest we’ve gotten so far.”

Hesitantly, Hux took the dried apple chip and popped it in his mouth. The moment it touched his tongue, he tasted every flavor, and he marveled at the way the apple slice seemed to re-hydrate. He usually _hated_ dry fruit. But somehow they’d captured the tangy flavor of the apple and it carried through even after being baked. The cinnamon, though…

“It needs just a hint more cinnamon,” Hux said, really taking a moment to taste the apple on his tongue and figure out if that’s what he’d meant. “Yes,” he nodded. “That’s what it needs.”

“More cinnamon?” Poe clarified, to which Hux nodded. “Huh. We worried it was too much.”

Hux shook his head. “All I get is the tanginess of the apple, especially if you let it just settle on your tongue,” he explained. “But if that’s what you’re going for, then you have just enough cinnamon.”

“Did you like it?” 

“Yes,” nodded Hux. “But the hint of cinnamon already there left me wanting more.”

Poe looked down into the bowl, considering what Hux was saying, and then popped a dried apple chip in his mouth, too. He let it sit on his tongue and he stared off into the middle distance as he ate it, carefully considering everything Hux had told him. Meanwhile, Hux stood by and watched, curious as to why he’d been invited inside this stranger’s home in the first place.

“You’re right,” Poe said simply. “It needs more cinnamon. I’ll let mom know.”

Hux’s hands were stuffed in the pockets of his jacket once more, and he watched with more self-awareness as Poe rifled around the containers on the kitchen, still sitting propped up on the countertop. He wanted to know why he’d been trusted like this. He didn’t look a trustworthy character in a long woolen pea coat. It was exactly the reason why he’d bought it.

“Alright, now these are _my_ favorite, but my dad says they’re too healthy to sell as treats,” Poe explained as he pulled the lid off of a cake pan. “They’re apple oat muffins. I like them because we bake ‘em with a slice of apple on top, so it dries out all cool like the one you just tried,” he explained as he offered one to Hux.

This was a bit more than just a little apple chip, so Hux eyed it with scrutiny. “Why did you invite me in here? I’m a stranger to you. I could be a murderer or a psycho.”

Poe raised an eyebrow. “Are you a murderer or a psycho?”

“Well, no, but —”

“Then I made the right call. You’re good. Just try the muffin.”

Hux opened his mouth, but before he could speak he was cut off by Poe. “Ah, ah, ah! Don’t overthink it. Gifthorse. Mouth. All that.”

“Well, now _you_ sound like the sketchy one,” Hux pointed out as he began to slowly peel away at the muffin liner.

Poe chuckled. “You got me there. But hey, these came from a half-eaten pan full of muffins — me and my parents wouldn’t be here if they were poison.”

He made a fair point, and Hux nodded to acknowledge it. 

Well aware of Poe’s close eye on him, Hux brought the muffin to his mouth and took a bite. He did like apples, and oats, so theoretically it should be delicious. 

Sure enough, it was. Hux ate the whole thing before he bothered to tell Poe a single thought on his mind. As he ate, he felt Poe’s gaze on him, and it should have bothered him more than it did. Strangers in general bothered Hux, and yet he’d blindly followed Poe into his home, and tasted his food, and had a conversation with him. It was easier to talk to Poe than it was to talk to most people.

It was probably because Poe didn’t know anything about Hux.

Most people left once they got to know Hux.

At the same time, Hux didn’t know why he’d allowed himself to go with this man. Then again, he’d been surprising himself all afternoon — leaving work early, going to an orchard for the first time, chatting with this handsome man — the day was an anomaly, and Hux couldn’t really explain any of it.

“So what do you think?”

Hux looked up suddenly, pulled from his thoughts. “It’s good.”

“You don’t think it’s too dry?”

Shaking his head, Hux reached for his cider. It was almost gone, and he had the vague thought that he should get more before he leaves — maybe a pitcher of it, if he wasn’t so prone to buying food and letting it go to waste because he opted to go out to eat most meals. 

“Not at all,” Hux responded. He swallowed back a swig of cider. “It was good. You’d think the oats would soak up all the moisture, but they didn’t. I’d say though, the apple slice on top made it hard to eat. It looks nice, but it actually ruins the taste a little bit.”

“That’s fair,” Poe nodded. He hopped off the counter and looked up at Hux. “Feedback noted.”

Hux nodded. He didn’t know what happened next — what to say, what to do. “So, want another cider on me?” Poe offered.

He must have heard the hollow sound of Hux’s cup as he placed it back on the countertop after taking a drink. Though Hux definitely didn’t want handouts, another cider sounded wonderful, as well as a little more time with Poe. Perhaps it would give Hux the courage to maybe give Poe his phone number.

He cursed himself for sounding so much like a teenager inside his head.

“Sure,” he said finally, snapping back to the moment. 

“Great.”

Poe smiled again, and Hux noticed the way his eyes almost seemed to sparkle when he smiled, the corners crinkled up and his joy apparent across his whole face. He wore his emotions so bravely, like there was nothing to be afraid of. And perhaps there wasn’t. Hux couldn’t imagine a life like that.

Nobody looked twice as the two of them left Poe’s home and wandered back out onto the orchard. The sun was far beyond the trees now, just a few lone rays shooting up over the horizon, painting the sky in deep crimson and purple hues. Overhead, stars already sparkled; it was a perfectly clear night.

The bonfire had grown taller, crackling and spitting up to the clear sky. A crowd had gathered around the bonfire, and there was a woman sitting near the fire telling a story. “Is that your mom?” Hux asked, pointing to the woman as they turned away from the fire to go into the barn.

“Nah,” Poe shook his head. “Most of the people working here we just hire from around here. Mom works here in the barn, and dad’s usually the one driving the tractor for hayrides.”

Hux nodded. He likely spoke to Poe’s HGTV-loving mother and never knew it. Sure enough, as they approached the cider stand, Poe pointed her out and introduced her. She was warm and kind, and Hux half-heartedly listened as Poe explained their thoughts on the recipes.

“Thank you for your help,” she said warmly, with a look in her eye that made Hux feel both welcomed and small at the same time. It was like she knew something he didn’t.

She handed Hux another cup of cider, and then the two of them began towards the exit. “She liked you,” Poe said excitedly.

“She doesn’t even know me.”

Poe laughed. He did that a lot, and it was odd for Hux to hear people reacting to him in such a way. Most were annoyed with him or didn’t bother talking to him in the first place. “Well, I don’t either, but I still like you.”

“Why?”

Their footsteps crunched on the leaves as they exited the barn. Hux fixated his gaze upon the steam rising from his coffee cup, suddenly too afraid to look over at Poe. He’d heard of picking up people at bars, but never orchards.

It seemed ridiculous to even think about, and yet here they were.

“Honestly?” Poe said. “You’re the first person all season that I’ve seen come here alone. I didn’t know why that was, and you caught my attention right away.”

“So… pity?” Hux supplied.

“No,” Poe shook his head quickly. “Not pity. Intrigue. I wanted to know why you were here by yourself.”

Dryly, Hux said, “Because I have no friends and no family and I’m horribly alone?”

It was morose and a little dark, but that was who Hux was, really. Why hide it from Poe? Poe chuckled, but when Hux’s expression didn’t change, he paused. “Wait — really?”

Hux stopped a few strides ahead of Poe, then turned slowly on his heel to face him. “Yes,” Hux replied simply. “My father still lives in London, my mother is dead, I have no siblings, and my grandparents are long gone. I moved here for a job a few months ago so I have yet to make friends beyond the inane souls I work with, so…”

“You’re here because you’re lonely?”

“I don’t know why I’m here,” Hux said tersely. The conversation was making him feel ill and uneasy, and far too vulnerable in front of a near-stranger. “I was annoyed at work so I left early, just started driving, and ended up here.”

Poe’s smile returned, though Hux couldn’t possibly fathom why. There was nothing remotely cheerful about what he’d just said. “So fate brought us together?”

“Get your head out of the clouds,” Hux replied, though the animosity he’d intended just wasn’t there.

Poe chuckled. His voice was melodic and warm; offhandedly, Hux wondered if Poe could sing. He probably could. He seemed to be good at everything he’d tried to do, at least insofar as Hux had seen in the short time they’d spent together so far.

“C’mon, there’s a free hay bale over there,” Poe said, pointing off towards the fire.

He’d somehow picked up on the fact that the conversation had been making Hux uncomfortable, and he’d expertly swerved away from it before chasing him away entirely. 

They walked towards the hay bale together and took a seat upon it. It wasn’t the most comfortable thing in the world, but Hux preferred it over a log. As they sat down, their thighs brushed, and neither scooted away. It felt immature, but Hux couldn’t bring himself to move; he’d gone without the touch of another for far too long.

“So what do you do for work?” Poe asked casually. He kept his eyes focused on the bonfire, giving Hux space to think and open up.

Hux looked around for a moment and wondered how he’d ended up in this position. The sun had fully set now, and the cool chill of an autumn night crept in on them, warded off only by the towering flames of the bonfire. It smelled like woods, and the crisp leaves continued to drift downwards from the trees. They danced across the lawn as the crowds dispersed, leaving only the crowd gathered by the fire.

It was quieter now, just the soft chatter of guests and the crackling of the fire. And Poe’s voice, and the warmth of his body sitting quite close to Hux on the hay bale, and he knew he was going to trust and open up to Poe before he really put thought into it.

“I’m an attorney,” Hux replied. “It’s nothing exciting, but it pays the bills.”

“You came all the way to America to be a lawyer?”

Hux smirked. “I studied international business but purposely sought out jobs here, yes. My father and I don’t have the best relationship, so I looked for any opportunity to move further away.”

“I heard moving countries for work is hard to do.”

“It’s easy if you know the right people,” Hux replied. “My father has quite a reputation — a good one, mind you — in many business circles. They know him because of his work, at least enough to know to pay attention and give proper consideration to anyone with the surname Hux.”

“You used your name to get your job.”

“I’m skilled, too. Don’t get me wrong.”

“I didn’t doubt you for a second,” Poe said quickly, in his own defense. “So, you just up and left London for _Philly_?”

Hux shrugged. “New York is cliche.”

Poe burst out laughing at that, though Hux wasn’t entirely sure he’d been all that funny. It was flattering, though, and he found that he had never made someone laugh quite like he could make Poe laugh. This man hardly even knew him, but he seemed to have picked up on all of the softer sides of Hux, the ones he usually tried to keep hidden. Going someplace new, all by himself, had caused Hux to let his guard down. He wasn’t as bothered by that as he thought he would have been.

“So, do you like it here?”

Poe’s voice was full of hope, Hux could hear it without even having to look into the man’s eyes. When he turned his head, sure enough there was a sparkle in Poe’s eye, accentuated by the flickering of the fire in the reflection of them. 

Hux felt Poe’s finger grazing gently over his knee, as though he were testing his boundaries with him. Hux looked down, but didn’t shy away from his touch.

“Yes.” Hux nodded. “I do.”

“Good,” Poe replied.

When Hux tipped his head up again, he was surprised by how close Poe was to him. It was crazy, meeting a man on an orchard and falling for him — this was the sort of thing that only happened in cheesy Meg Ryan romcoms, not in Armitage Hux’s actual life. 

But when Poe’s nose bumped his, Hux couldn’t break away or pull out of it. This was where he was now, and it was obscene how much he wanted this affection. Poe wasn’t his type — he wore flannel, he didn’t shave, his hair looked like it hadn’t been brushed in days. He smelled faintly of grass and dirt and the woods, but he didn’t smell bad. He smelled earthy… relaxing. And his fingers were warm and soothing as he laid his hand upon Hux’s knee and leaned in, close enough that Hux could feel Poe’s breath on his lips, and though they sat in the darkness Hux worried that the whole orchard could see them.

But it was a silly thought, washed away almost immediately by the touch of Poe’s lips against Hux’s. The gesture was soft and over way too soon, but it was sweet all the same. Hux chased Poe’s mouth with his own, unwilling to let the kiss end so soon.

Poe smiled into it, and his lips brushed Hux’s as he said, “You taste like cider.”

The statement was silly and Hux had never felt someone speak against his mouth before, and though he wanted to resist, he couldn’t. He laughed. He leaned his forehead to Poe’s and let a soft string of melodic laughter fall from his lips. 

Hux’s entire day had been ridiculous, full of decisions and actions that he wouldn’t have usually taken, but he’d needed to explore, to get out of his own head, to start his weekend early. And now he sat on a hay bale, in an orchard, by a bonfire, with a man he’d just met, laughing with him, touching him, kissing him. There was nothing familiar about the situation, yet Hux felt more comfortable with it than he did with most things.

“So…” Poe trailed off, trying to capture Hux’s attention again. He gave the man’s thigh a gentle squeeze, drawing his attention upwards so they were looking into each other’s eyes. Full of hope, Poe asked, “Does this mean you’ll give me your number?”

A sparkle of mischief glinted in Hux’s eye as he laid his cold hand upon Poe’s. 

“Only if you’ll give me yours.”

**Author's Note:**

> Find me over at armltagehux.tumblr.com


End file.
